Saturday, May 31, 2014

IN PRAISE OF THE INNER CRONE!
OK, we all know about the "inner child", right? The innocent being who still lives inside of us, who needs and deserves love and care, and whom we sometimes have to channel in order to learn self-compassion?
I'm a big fan of the notion of the inner child. It can be a really healing construct. Once, when I was going through a particularly dark season of self-loathing, I taped a sweet photo of myself (age 2) on my mirror, and taught myself that any harm I did to me, I also did to HER. It made me kinder and more tender to myself. Imagining other people's inner children makes me kinder and more tender to them.
So the Inner Child is a good thing.
These days, though, I spend less time thinking about my Inner Child lately, and more time focused on my INNER CRONE — the old lady who lives inside me, whom I hope to someday be.
Because she's a serious bad-ass.
The really old ladies always are bad-asses. I'm talking about the real survivors. The women who have been through everything already, so nothing scares them anymore. The ones who have already watched the world fight itself nearly to death a dozen times over. The ones who have buried their dreams and their loved ones and lived through it. The ones who have suffered pain and lived through it, and who have had their innocence challenged by ten thousand appalling assaults...and who lived through all of it.
The world is a frightening place. But you simply cannot frighten The True Crone.
Some might consider the word "crone" to be derogatory, but I don't in the least. I honor it. The crone is a classic character from myth and folklore, and she often the bearer of great wisdom and supernatural power. She is sometimes a guardian to the underworld. She has tremendous vision, even if she is blind. She has no fear of death, which means: NO FEAR.
I keep a wall of photos of some of my favorite crones, for inspiration. The photo below is of a Ukrainian Babushka who lives in (get this) Chernobyl. There are a group of such women — all tough elderly peasants — who have all recently moved back to the radioactive area around Chernobyl.
You know why they live there? Because they like it.
They like Chernobyl because that's where they came from. They are natural-born farmers. They hated being refugees.They resented being shunted off their land after the catastrophe. They hated living in the shabby and crime-infiltrated and stress-inducing government housing in the city, and they much prefer the independence of living off the land in the most contaminated nuclear site on earth. They have formed a stupendously resilient retirement community there, in what some would call the world's most terrifying landscape.
Is it safe? Of course not. Or, whatever. After 90 years of hard living, what does "safe" even mean? They drink the water. These women plant vegetables in that radioactive soil and eat them. They butcher the wild pigs that scavenge around the old nuclear power plant, and eat them, too. Their point is: "We are old. What do have to fear from radioactivity? At this age? Who cares?"
All they want is their freedom. So they take care of themselves and each other. They cut and haul their own wood. They make their own vodka. They get together and drink and laugh about the hardships of World War II and the evils of the Stalin years. They laugh about everything, then they go outside and butcher another radioactive boar and make sausage out of him.
I would put these women in a Bad-Ass Contest against any cocky young alleged Bad Ass you've got going, and I guarantee you — the Chernobyl crones would win, hands down.
We live in a society that romanticizes youth. We live in a culture where youth is considered a real accomplishment. You look at a seriously powerful classic crone like the woman in this photo and you see foolish we are — to imagine that the young offer much for us to aspire to, or learn from. No wisdom like the wisdom of survival. No equanimity like the equanimity of somebody who plants a garden right on top of a nuclear disaster and gets on with it.
So these days, when my Inner Child gets all fluttery with the panic of living, I just ask myself: " WWMICD?"
"What Would My Inner Crone Do?"
Ask yourself that same question. See what she tells you.
One thing I can promise you she will never say? She will never say: "WORRY.
She will more likely tell you this: "ENDURE."
Hang in there, all you future awesome crones!
LG

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

I came home from school one day, and my mother greeted me by telling me that there was someone on TV I just had to see. That someone was Maya Angelou.

And there stood this amazing woman, with a voice both melodious and powerful, speaking words, speaking words I knew were true

thoughts I knew should be expressed and

then

then I knew

that there was so much more

to the world

to everything and everyone

in it.

My life changed that instant.

I watched every program she was interviewed on and read everything I could find that she wrote, and that continues to this day.

Dr Angelou , who once wrote cookbooks, yes, really. A thought to me that seems to make perfect sense and a perfect circle. "Good Food, All Day Long" and "Hallelujah! the Welcome Table", while talking about these she spoke of the variety and colors of foods, and what a blessing they were, and she also spoke of the many colors in the Family of Man. It seems only right to me that an adept story teller like herself would connect food, eating together and the exchange of stories.
v

In recent years she grew increasingly frail, but the power of her voice and her spirit shown through.

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Mayfull Moon started out as one of my many typos...the Mayfull Moon, surely mayfull must be a word, but no, it isn't. So here I sit looking out the window at the May Full Moon. Wanting to say that the Full Flower Moon and the Full Milk Moon sing of hopefulness. The word "may" means possible, can, permitted to....so Mayfull Moon means filled with promise, filled with hope. Yes, I like that even though, or may-be because I made it up. As I watched the nearly full moon rise high in the late day sky and think about the never ending winter, the trees trying to leaf out and the flowers trying to bloom, and the humming birds, bossy little creatures in perpetual motion.

Monday, May 12, 2014

Sorry, I have not composed a limerick for this occasion, in fact I have not composed a limerick since I was in High School. Why? you might well ask. Simply because I am so terrible at it.

Did you know that the limerick takes it's name from the city of Limerick, the third largest city in Ireland. And, no, don't know if they are pleased, about the poetry but reckon that they might be.Edward Lear {1812-1888} popularised the limerick in 1846 his "Book on Nonsense" and his birthday is May 12th. He was one of 21 children, and was raised by his oldest sister. Lear began his career as and illustrator at age 16 and by 19 had published his first book, a collection of illustrations of parrots. His skill at rendering the image of birds was compared to Audubon's. He also published volumes of illustrations of the Italian coast and taught drawing to Queen Victoria, he was however socially awkward at court and subsequently left, to draw more images of the Mediterranean coast. His paintings were well received. It was Lear"s dream to illustrated the works of Alfred Lloyd Tennyson, sadly he died before completing the project, a few of his illustrations were collected into a small book.

Lear suffered from several physical problems including epilepsy, asthma, depression and later vision problems. He did however travel to Greece, Egypt , India and Ceylon where he completed many watercolor wash paintings which he later, back at home, rendered in oils and watercolor.He settled into the "Villa Tennyson", and when he died in 1888, his epitaph was taken from Tennyson's poetry.Tomohrit, Athos, all things fair.With such a pencil, such a pen.You shadow forth to distant men,I read and felt that I was there.

Lear also wrote "The Owl and the Pussycat".

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my apologies I do not know who wrote the following instructions for writing Limericks it might be from ~~~www.poetry for kids.com

How to Write a Limerick

What is a Limerick?

Limericks are one of the most fun and well-known poetic forms. No one knows for sure where the name “limerick” comes from, but most people assume it is related to the county of Limerick, in Ireland.
The reason limericks are so much fun is because they are short, rhyming, funny, and have a bouncy rhythm that makes them easy to memorize. In this lesson, I’ll show you how you can write your own limericks in just a few easy steps.

The Rules of Limericks

Limericks, like all poetic forms, have a set of rules that you need to follow. The rules for a limerick are fairly simple:

They are five lines long.

Lines 1, 2, and 5 rhyme with one another.

Lines 3 and 4 rhyme with each other.

They have a distinctive rhythm (which I’ll explain shortly)

They are usually funny.

Rhyming a Limerick

The rhyme scheme of a limerick is known as “AABBA.” This is because the last words in lines 1, 2, and 5 rhyme. Those are the “A’s” in the rhyme scheme. The “B’s” are the last words of lines 3 and 4. Let me give you an example:

There was a young fellow named Hall
Who fell in the spring in the fall.
‘Twould have been a sad thing
Had he died in the spring,
But he didn’t—he died in the fall.
– Anonymous

Notice that the words, “Hall,” “fall,” and “fall” all rhyme. Those are the “A” words in the “AABBA” rhyme scheme. Also notice that “thing” and “spring” rhyme. Those are the “B” words in the rhyme scheme.

Limerick Rhythm

Now let’s take a look at the rhythm of the limerick. It goes by the complicated name “anapaestic,” but you don’t need to worry about that. What I want you to notice when you read or recite a limerick is that the first two lines and the last line have three “beats” in them, while the third and fourth lines have two “beats.” In other words, the rhythm of a limerick looks like this:

The rhythm doesn’t have to exactly match this, but it needs to be close enough that it sounds the same when you read it. For example, using the limerick above about the fellow from Hall, if we emphasize the beats, it reads like this:

there WAS a young FELLow named HALL
who FELL in the SPRING in the FALL.
‘twould have BEEN a sad THING
had he DIED in the SPRING,
but he DIDn’t—he DIED in the FALL.

Let’s take a look at another famous limerick:

There was an old man of Nantucket
Who kept all his cash in a bucket;
But his daughter, named Nan,
Ran away with a man,
And as for the bucket, Nantucket.
– Anonymous

If you emphasize the beats when you read it, it comes out like this:

there WAS an old MAN of NanTUCKet
who KEPT all his CASH in a BUCKet;
but his DAUGHTer, named NAN,
ran aWAY with a MAN,
and AS for the BUCKet, NanTUCKet.

Some Limerick Tricks

There are two more things that you will notice when you read limericks:

The first line usually ends with a person’s first name or the name of a place.

The last line is usually funny.

Because the first line is usually the name of a person or place, writing the first line is the easiest part. You simply pick the name of a place or person – like “New York” or “Dave” – and write a line like this:

There once was a man from New York

Or

There was and old woman named Dave

Then go to your rhyming dictionary and start looking for rhymes like “cork,” “fork,” “pork,” “stork,” or “cave,” “gave,” “wave,” and so on to find more words to complete your limerick.
Once you’ve found some rhyming words, you’ll want to start thinking about a funny ending for your poem. I find it’s easiest to write lines 1, 2, and 5 first, and then to fill in lines 3 and 4 afterward. For example, I decided to write a limerick about someone from Seattle, so I started it like this:

A talkative man from Seattle
would spend his days speaking to cattle.

I then noticed that the word “prattle” rhymed with “cattle” and “Seattle” so I wrote the last line, like this:

She said, “Why it’s nothing but prattle!”

Finally, I went back and wrote lines 3 and 4 to complete the limerick:

A talkative man from Seattle
would spend his days speaking to cattle.
When asked what he said,
one old cow shook her head,
and replied, “Why it’s nothing but prattle!”

You’ll notice that I changed the last line after I wrote lines 3 and 4. I did this so the poem would make more sense. It’s okay to change your words at any time if it improves the poem.

Your Turn

Now it’s your turn to see if you can write a limerick of your own. Remember to follow these steps:

Choose the name of a person or place and write the first line.

Look in a rhyming dictionary for words that rhyme with your person or place name.

Write line 2 and 5 to rhyme with the first line.

Now write lines 3 and 4 with a different rhyme.

When you are done writing, read your limerick out loud to see if it has the right rhythm; three “beats” on lines 1, 2, and 5, and two “beats” on lines 3 and 4, as shown above. If not, see if you can rewrite some words to get the rhythm right.

Limericks Take Practice

I know that writing limericks is going to seem hard at first because it’s sometimes difficult to get the rhythm, the rhymes, and the joke to all work together. But don’t worry; with a little practice, you’ll soon be creating funny limericks of your own.

Saturday, May 10, 2014

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Daffodils are survivors. There they stand, cheerful, faithful , year after year, decade after decade, long after any trace of the house that was once there has disappeared. Daffy-down-dilly Has come to town With a yellow petticoat And a pretty green gown. The frilly old fashioned ones that really do look like Daffy down Dilly's petticoat can be found in the woods, each spring, where there is nothing but them, and I wonder, how they got there. I fancy that they were planted in line of sight of the kitchen window, a real treat for the housewife, that splash of color after months of snow and mud, wood ashes and icey paths. No rodent or other creature will eat them, they are nearly disease free, and very toxic. But the fragrance is subtle and refreshing.

The following pictures are the decedents

of bulbs planted behind a barbershop and candy store in the late 1940s, I am told the original were all the same color, white. There are drifts of them to be found through this and the neighboring townships. You will see them in long rows, or big clumps. scattered randomly among the trees and in one place even growing up between the railroad ties.This makes me wonder if that is why the American Caner Society chose to have Daffodil Day as a fundraiser. This year is the 100th Anniversary of the American Caner Society, it is also the last year for Daffodil Days. When one was coming out of the grocery store on a clammy damp early spring day it was a treat to find someone offering bunches of daffodils for a donation to a good cause. Even though I have a yard full of daffodils. I always wondered why daffodils, why such a common flower, and then it hit me like a shovel to the head, because they are survivors.The flowers that have outlasted whoever planted them, sometimes even the memory of who ever planted them. The flowers that put a splash of color to the gray and clammy Spring day when a housewife felt like the sun would never shine again. and when she hung the laundry in to dry in the fresh summer breeze, they nodded approval.Every little once in awhile I see a lone and lonely daffodil, and wonder how it got there.

Some even mark where family member were once buried, now long forgotten by everyone but the daffodils.

Thursday, May 1, 2014

Did you know that may 2nd is international Tuba Day? I didn't until I started to write this post.Which reminded me of the first time I ever saw Tubby the Tuba, I was pretty young, and I was very impressed ,still am. I had never seen anything like it before and would like to share it with you.